No Rest For The Weary
by Nicole Elisabeth Harding
Summary: In the aftermath of the Avengers' battle in New York City, Natasha and Clint are forced to go back to their lives as agents of SHIELD. But they're not the same people they once were and they're coming to rely on each other a lot more than they used to. Attachments are dangerous in the business of spying.
1. Chapter 1

I gazed across the table at Clint. When he finally looked up and met my gaze, I raised an eyebrow questioningly. He smiled and shrugged. Who knew how we managed to have these wordless conversations? It just happened after spending tons of time with each other on missions and the like.

The rest of the Avengers sat with us at the shawarma joint; Tony's suggestion after the aftermath of the big alien battle. To be honest, I was glad of the little respite. I'd been running myself ragged doing secret missions for SHIELD and doing my best to prove that I wasn't an entirely bad person. I had to prove it to myself but also show to Clint that he hadn't made a mistake in sparing my life.

"Didn't I tell you it would be great?" Tony said enthusiastically.

"I don't know if I would deem this worthy of a trip back from Asgard, but it isn't completely tasteless," Thor allowed.

The rest of the group just nodded, their mouths full. Around us the owner was sweeping up rubble from the alien attack. SHIELD had managed to clean up the major debris almost overnight, but many of the people of New York City were still cleaning up the damage, both physical and emotional.

It wasn't long before we'd all finished eating and got up to part ways. Doctor Banner was headed who knows where and was quick to disappear with only a muttered good-bye. Stark slapped all of the men on the back and considered me for a second before offering to shake my hand. I almost laughed at his hesitation. Thor and Steve exchanged a firm handshake and a few murmured words before Thor took off. I had no idea how he was travelling back to his home.

"Natasha," Steve said, turning to Clint and me. "Thanks for all of your help. You too, Barton."

"No, thank you for your help, Cap," Clint said, offering his hand.

"Have you considered Fury's offer at all?" I asked. "SHIELD would be lucky to have you."

"I haven't decided what I'll do yet," Steve said shortly. "I'm not entirely impressed with the work SHIELD is doing. I'll figure it out though."

"See you around," I said kindly. "It was an honor to work with you."

"Likewise."

Clint and I watched as Steve climbed on his motorcycle and disappeared around the corner.

"So," Clint said slowly. "What do we do now?"

I laughed. "I don't know if I can go back to being a regular field agent after this."

"Same here." He chuckled.

As if in response, my cell phone rang. I sighed heavily, exchanging a glance with Clint before answering it.

"Romanoff."

"I need you and Barton in now. Something's come up and I need you to accompany an asset to a safe location."

"On our way," I replied.

Without saying anything, Clint and I started walking towards the car. We'd parked on the side of the street nearest to the restaurant. He didn't say anything, but I could sense that he was still exhausted. The New York fight had taken a toll on both of us. But as usual, there is no rest for the weary.


	2. Chapter 2

I ducked as shots were fired in my direction. I slid behind the cover of the shelves and fired in return. I downed two of the men and the third fell to the floor with an arrow in his chest. I glanced up to see Clint on the catwalk, scanning for other men.

I dashed back down the hallway and found the room where our asset was being held. He jumped visibly when the door opened.

"Relax, I'm with SHIELD," I said coolly.

I swiftly cut the bonds tying him to his chair and grabbed his arm, jerking him to his feet.

"Ouch, be more careful," the young man complained as I dragged him along.

"I can be gentle or you can live," I snapped. "Take your pick."

He fell silent and glared at me sullenly. Clint dropped down from the catwalk and covered our backs as I moved swiftly towards the exit. A group of soldiers gathered in front of us, blocking our escape. One of them threw a blinking grenade towards us. It rolled to my feet and I kicked it back towards them. Raising an eyebrow, I watched as they scrambled around for the few seconds before it exploded.

Clint shot two soldiers who were coming up from behind. The blast had blown a hole in the concrete wall. I dragged the boy forward and out into the night air. I pulled my gun and shot a guard who attempted to stop us from crossing the yard. Clint moved ahead and opened the door of our SUV, starting the car as he waited for us to climb in. I ungraciously shoved the asset into the backseat and took the front myself.

No sooner had I closed my door then Clint whipped the car out of the lot, running through the chain link fence like it wasn't even there.

"We've got three cars on our tail," he said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

"You'd think they would just give up already," I said calmly.

"Does anything ever phase you?" he laughed.

I smiled in return and rolled down my window.

"Try not to swerve too hard," I said lightly.

I climbed halfway out of the window, sitting on the edge as I took aim at one of the cars behind us. I fired a couple of shots before realizing that my gun didn't have enough firepower to reach the distance. As if sensing what I needed, Clint reached with one hand into the backseat and handed me an automatic rifle.

That was more like what I needed. I took aim once again and sent a spray of bullets across the first car's windshield. The driver slumped over and the car swerved wildly into another one before rolling off the road. The next car got a bullet in just the right spot to explode the gas tank. The third one I let get just close enough before shooting out the tires and watching the car crash into a concrete barrier.

I slid back into the car and rolled up my window.

"We have the package. Rendezvous in 15 at the airfield," I said into my earpiece.

"Roger that."

We arrived to meet the jet without further incident. A SHIELD agent unloaded the asset from our SUV and ushered him onto the jet with more care than I had been treating him.

Clint and I followed closely. He put an arm around my shoulders playfully.

"Not too shabby, Nat."

"Not too shabby yourself, Barton," I replied with a small smile. "We make a good team."

"Like you didn't know that already," Clint laughed.

We boarded the jet and the cargo door closed behind us. The pilot took off and directed us towards SHIELD headquarters.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't remember crying out in my sleep, but I wake up; bolting upright and breathing hard. Someone pounds on my door loudly. My hand goes to the semi-automatic gun beneath my pillow and I move towards the door.

"Nat, are you all right?"

I open the door to my small bunk and let in Clint. Without a word, he looks me over and pulls me into his arms.

"What was it about this time?" he murmured.

"What else?" I laugh dryly. "It's a part of the job."

"Yeah, I suppose so. Someone has to do the dirty work though."

I pull away from his embrace and stare into his eyes.

"That's a lie and you know it," I snapped. "That sounds like something Fury says to ease guilty consciences."

"And what would you rather do?" Clint demanded. "I doubt you could go to a normal, civilian life after everything you've seen and done."

"That doesn't mean I have to justify what I do," I replied. "I need to walk this off."

I slid past him, out of the room, and started down the narrow hallway. Always stubborn and supportive, he followed me without asking.

"Nat, I don't think any of us will be the same after New York," Clint said.

"Don't start with that," I threatened. "What are we supposed to do? Go back to regular reconnaissance and spying like nothing abnormal and completely alien happened? Or pretend that SHIELD and Fury are completely innocent in this fight? It's not good against evil anymore, Clint. Its shades of grey. And darned if I know what's right and what's wrong anymore."

He fell silent and just walked beside me as we exited the building. The fresh air felt good on my hot, sweaty skin.

"If you're going to fight for a cause, it's usually good to know what you're fighting for," I said quietly.


End file.
